


The Space Between A Rock And A Hard Place

by Lady_Valentina_Stark



Category: Warrior (TV 2019)
Genre: Episode: s01e10 If You're Going To Bow Bow Low, I'm sorry i was sad, M/M, Missing Scene, Pining, Self-Reflection, basically ah sahm thinking about everything, i still call him jun because it's cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:35:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Valentina_Stark/pseuds/Lady_Valentina_Stark
Summary: Ah Sahm reflects on his life's mistakes, what entails to be a warrior and who is worth fighting for.
Relationships: Ah Sahm/Young Jun
Comments: 17
Kudos: 24





	The Space Between A Rock And A Hard Place

**Author's Note:**

> missing scene for s1e10, starts before young jun and ah sahm's fight and ends before ah sahm finds po, his bedmate, dead.
> 
> i really hope you enjoy this, since i believe i suck at this sort of instrospective shit. i have only now gotten the courage to post this and now i'll fuck off.
> 
> xx.

Ah Sahm is not the best warrior out there. It's been proven to a striking point now.

After years of training with Sifu Li Qiang and all that it cost him. After taking stand after stand, and carrying his dead, his first instinct always to bare his teeth like a bloodhound from hell.

_Ah Sahm is defeated._

Among countless other things, he got the definition wrong.

Maybe being a warrior is not about scrapping the hardest, maybe it's about having a reason to scrap at all.

_“I hope you find something worth fighting for.”_

God, he shouldn’t be thinking about that day. That distant memory, feels like another life now.

And what has become of his life?

Xiaojing doesn't want to be saved. She has something to prove. She has saved herself. She wants to erase the past, erase him. Maybe even wants to hurt him too, at least a little bit. And wouldn’t he deserve it? She wants him safe and alone, or dead and gone. There're no gray areas and no in between. There is only Mai Ling.

Penny gave him up once she saw the mistake. In her life he is only danger. Ah Sahm doesn't know what he thought would happen, but he could be truthful to her and she could be truthful to him, and for a short-lived moment of peace, that was enough. If she wanted him to stay, it was enough. Until it wasn't anymore.

Young Jun. Young Jun makes him so fucking angry. Young Jun is the Hop Wei, and the Hop Wei is his ticket with no return. A master with a stick and he's the dog. Young Jun is the friend he never had, a much needed smoke break. Or at least he was. An open door leading him somewhere, anywhere. Ah Sahm would’ve followed anywhere.

 _My winless fight,_ he thinks with a rueful smile. The door would still be open if the two of them had been honest.

But honesty is a luxury no one can afford in San Francisco. And so the door remains closed.

He's been trying not to force open all these closed doors, stop looking for long lost keys.

He came for one thing that far too late he realized he can't have, and now he can't go back home because it will never be the same. There's nothing to come home to, and San Francisco might be like standing between a rock and a hard place, but it's all he's got.

There are days where he thinks he might be selfish, but not bad. And there are days where the pain tortures him relentlessly, transcending his cruel reality and taking him home. Fresh air in a corn field, smoke in an alley. And when the day is done and he crawls into what can hardly be called a bed, this self-inflicted exile, it permeates his bones. _You lost._

If he’s not bad, he’s not good either. He doesn’t think the good suffer this way.

The ferocity and stubbornness inside of him, the only forces that can make him face another day after a night of bad dreams and hopeless yesterdays, are both a gift and a curse. Coming alive when he feels he's been wronged or played or used. And to be honest he's felt a lot of that lately.

But if he can find purpose, a time and place where those features can thrive, maybe it won't be so bad. If he can help, do something good, maybe the tide will turn and the seas will calm at last.

And would he survive in waters still enough to float, or would he sink to the bottom?

It’s hard to accept he was wrong about everything. Maybe Xiaojing is right and he’s just fucking stupid.

_God, he should’ve stayed by her side all along._

The days go by, counting regrets, until Jun finds him in his hiding place. The spotless black and red suits, salient as ever among colorless coolies.

Ah Sahm reminds himself he's not hiding, he's merely avoiding.

 _“This is the last time I can talk to you,”_ Jun had said.And the smile on his face now contrasts with the defeat that finally dragged Ah Sahm to this place, of all places. Another ghost.

He wishes he wasn't so sad, so disappointed. It only makes him angry, and he's never been much reasonable when he's angry.

The Hop Wei wanted him to win. Young Jun wanted his loyalty, still wants it. And Ah Sahm only wanted a place to stay, if belonging was too much to ask.

A rock and a hard place becomes a bit of an understatement when it comes to Young Jun.

Ah Sahm wants to be honest, but being honest with Young Jun means dragging him to that corner of the world with him, and despite his own anger, Ah Sahm knows Young Jun has his back.

This proves to be true when, after being turned down, he finds Ah Sahm again in the market later that day.

This time he's alone. It's all Ah Sahm can do not to laugh.

Ah Sahm looks through the freshly baked breads displayed on the stall, but flashes Jun a smile to let it show that he's angry, but not so much anymore.

Jun sighs. "Let me buy you some." He gestures to the bread.

"I can pay for my own bread, baby Jun." The endearment slips past his lips before he can stop it, but thankfully it comes out as teasing. At least he hopes so.

He picks up the warmest bread and gives it to the seller, along with a few pennies to pack it for him.

"I was thinking more of an actual meal, actually," Jun mutters, but Ah Sahm hears it crystal clear. He turns and Young Jun is standing next to him, now looking through the spices. Their shoulders almost brush.

Ah Sahm smiles. "Jun," he says, trying to put all the weight of the world in that single syllable.

But if there's someone who can match him in stubbornness, then that's the man standing next to him. "Well, at least let me get you something. D'you need anything?"

Ah Sahm thinks of refusing him, fighting for the sake of it, but he remembers that's the kind of thing he wants to eradicate from his life. He thinks better.

"Actually…" he says, and is a wonder in itself to see the hope rising in Jun's eyes. It distracts him a little.

"You say it," Jun pushes.

"I need some meds," he says. The seller offers him his packaged bread back and he takes it, ducking his head in thanks.

"See? You should've stayed with Ah Toy and waited until you were —"

"They're not for me." Ah Sahm snorts. He breathes in the warm weight in his hands, practically tasting the soft filling. "They're for a friend."

"Huh." If he didn't know any better, Ah Sahm would say Young Jun is embarrassed. "But you're fine, though?" 

"Yes." He rolls his eyes and digs for the money in his pocket, it's not enough to cover even half of what it’ll cost, but it's all he's got. "He has an infection." He presses the money to Jun's chest and Jun sways a little, grabbing the money with both hands.

"You're not coming?" Jun looks up to him, his shoulders slump.

"Can't be seen together, remember? Bad for business."

It's Jun's turn to snort. It shouldn't make Ah Sahm smile as much as it does. Messing around with Jun like nothing's changed.

"I'll be there." Ah Sahm signals to a shadowed spot in front of the drugstore.

"Alright."

Jun sets off to get the meds and Ah Sahm patiently waits, Chinatown darkening with the impending sunset.

Jun comes out of the drugstore with the last of the sun on his face, stopping across the street to light a cigarette, before he's wending towards Ah Sahm, meds wrapped in a cloth in his hand.

He presses his back to the wall next to Ah Sahm.

They stare at each other for the longest time, revisiting scars and wrinkles, soft lines and sharp angles. Ah Sahm isn’t sure when it turns into a contest, but of course it does. Ah Sahm knows this, just like he knows he’ll always look for Jun’s face everywhere he goes. They’ve always been this fucking ridiculous.

He looks away first, smile turned laughter. And when was the last time he laughed like this? Basking in the familiar presence of Young Jun, his own _I can’t believe we’re doing this_ laughter lighting up his eyes. 

Jun offers him a cigarette and Ah Sahm leans down towards Jun’s hand to catch it between his lips. Jun rolls his eyes at his antics, and Ah Sahm gives him a tired, knowing look. He can’t really be bothered to use his own hands. Jun just limits himself to lighting the cigarette.

Puffs of smoke float around them, and they finish by the time the sunset paints Chinatown orange. Not a single word exchanged, only funny looks as they watch people go about their business.

The kiss of molasses, sweet and euphoric as the first time. But he’s battered in a different way.

He’s taken aback by Jun handing him the meds, part of him fell so much in line with the smoke break routine they had going on, he half expected Jun to turn around and walk back home to follow him.

That feels like yesterday, like nothing has changed.

How could he ever think the door was closed? No, things between them were seldom so simple.

"Thanks," he says, voice hoarse.

He's regarded with a soft smile and a shrug. "Just tell me when you need anything."

Ah Sahm reaches to grab the meds, he doesn't know what he wants to say, but he wraps his hand around Jun's. Jun's eyebrows raise, but he doesn't take it back.

Ah Sahm’s skin is sickly pale against Jun's gorgeous tan. He runs his thumb over Jun’s and only now understands why Jun wants him back.

Jun saw the dark circles under his eyes, his slow movements, his dirty clothes and his vacant gaze. Maybe he decided that enough is enough, after all, Father Jun doesn’t approve of bringing Ah Sahm back for another round.

Ah Sahm wouldn't want Jun living like him either. The ghost of Chinatown.

Being with the Hop Wei is much better than being a coolie. Ah Sahm gets that. But he doesn't belong there, not really. He's not a hatchetman.

He's a warrior. Whatever that means. However long it takes him to figure it out.

_I will always look for your face, everywhere I go._

Ah Sahm leans in closer. "I think about it too," he says, because he does, for fuck’s sake.

More than he should. Ever since they came from Carson City, where they should've stayed.

_God, we should’ve stayed together and never come back._

He finally releases Jun's hand, shakes the meds a little in his hold with a smile and walks a few steps backwards.

The fire in Jun's eyes tells him he knows what Ah Sahm meant.

He has so, so many regrets, so much past, but this door is flung wide open.

The last of the afternoon sears into his memory on the way back to his sad, little sleeping spot.

Back to the exiled. Back to old, cruel reality.


End file.
